


To Serve a Lord

by Ethereal_Red



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening, Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken, Fire Emblem: Shin Monshō no Nazo | Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-17 02:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2294351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereal_Red/pseuds/Ethereal_Red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Behind every lord there is a loyal companion. Behind every companion there is...? </p><p>A word prompt fic focused on the player avatars of Fire Emblem (minus Fates).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the introduction of a word prompt challenge about the player avatars of Fire Emblem - Mark from Blazing Sword, Kris from Heroes of Light and Shadow, and Robin from Awakening. Sorry about the lack of original writing here, but future installments will likely involve more characters, crossovers between all three, and the occasional destruction of the fourth wall.

_ **The Hero's Guard** _

_Not much is written about Kris in the pages of history. However, many speak highly of the time they spent alongside the one they called Altea's finest knight._

* * *

**Blue**

Alteans were obsessed with the color blue, which he supposed was understandable. Blue was the color of their flag, the color of the ocean which surrounded and safeguarded their island kingdom, the color of their beloved royal family. But sometimes Kris felt like people were drawn to him simply because he had blue hair and, as a royal guard, was much more approachable than the likes of Prince Marth. He had never been very popular in small, isolated Sera Village yet the moment he arrived in the capital there had been more than a few swoons in his general direction from women and men alike.

Maybe he should dye it.

* * *

_"Sire. With this war now over, a hero will be needed. A hero called Prince Marth. There are still hostilities between people who have fought for so long. Those won't disappear easily. In order to have everyone's agreement, a king everyone recognizes- a godlike hero is needed. And that hero must be you, Sire, and you alone. "_

_"But then, what you've done so far will be... "_

_"Even if the world doesn't know, you do and that's enough for me."_

* * *

_ **The Famed Genius** _

_Mark vanished after the final battle. Bern, Lycia, and Etruria all sought those famed skills, but none ever found the tactician whose brilliance changed the course of history._

* * *

**Blue**

The sky was blue.

He had always known the sky was blue, of course. He'd looked up at it often enough during the campaign to check the weather and the positioning of the sun, yet while he was always quick to notice the sky's color it was rare that he ever acknowledged it when the color was blue.

The sky was blue. It was the color of Lyn's favored dress and Eliwood's worn tunic and Hector's battered armor, the color engraved in his memory after months in its presence.

One day there would be another war. One day they would call and he would answer, secure in the knowledge that a tactician's place was in the midst of conflict. But until then he would explore this peaceful world and, should he ever grow lonely, look up to the sky.

* * *

_"You'll do just fine on your own. I have the utmost faith that you'll be a master tactician, Mark. That's from someone who's seen you at work! Well then, take care... I... I hope I see you again. I'm sure that I will someday..."_

_"So, this is farewell. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't... This world wouldn't be here. You have my heartfelt gratitude. Mark...I'll see you again. It's a promise, my friend."_

_"I sealed Armads away, like it used to be, but... I can still feel its power pulsing inside me. War is coming. Someday, a terrible war... When that day comes... I want you to be there when that day comes. I want you to guide my children and me. We'll meet again. I'm sure of it!"_

* * *

_ **The High Deliverer** _

_Robin's legendary exploits filled many a saga and delighted children hungry for a dashing tale of heroism. But what was the man really like? ...Few yet live to remember._

* * *

**Blue**

In the courtyard there was a marble statue, that of a young man with quizzical eyes and a gentle smile. Its base was largely obscured by a sea of blue, courtesy of the many flowers planted seemingly at random in a haphazard and chaotic crowd that stood out against the carefully trimmed plants which inhabited the rest of the castle.

It wasn't long before the flowers became almost as revered as the man they honored and the soft blue petals began to emerge around the realm. The flowers bloomed on the tables of commoners and in the halls of nobility, soared on the saddles of pegasi and crowned the horns of wyverns. Soon it was all but impossible to travel within Ylisse without the presence of forget-me-nots.

* * *

_"I vow to give my all to healing the damage this war has wrought upon the realm. When Robin returns, I want him to see what his sacrifice bought. Robin...if you can hear me... You will always have a place here with us. Remember that. Always."_


	2. Gift

 

* * *

**Gift**

* * *

Kris dropped to the ground and crouched on top of the freshly killed corpse, pulling out his sword as he strained his senses searching for any other intruders. After a long moment of silence he finally determined the coast was clear and went to light a candle.

There was a very good reason why Kris had volunteered to be Marth's body double - his similar height, build, and hair color meant he could easily be mistaken for the prince from a distance if wearing the right clothes - but he couldn't deny having an ulterior motive. It was juvenile, but the sight of blood soaking into Marth's eyesore of a rug made him grin.

The expensive rug was a gift from King Mostyn and had become a bit of a joke among Marth and his guards. The prince hated the bright, clashing colors but he couldn't exactly throw away a present from an allied king who also happened to be his fiancee's father. Placing it in the more public areas of the castle was out of the question, so he'd compromised by locking it in the relative privacy of his bedroom with the intention of tossing it at the first opportunity.

Kris stepped over the would-be assassin and left, heading to the guest room where Marth was spending the night. He couldn't wait to see the prince's face.

* * *

**Gift**

* * *

Mark crouched down to study the items arrayed on the bottom shelf. Potions...hex bags...more potions...and was that a baby wyvern skull with sapphires in the eye sockets? He gingerly picked it up and held it to the light for a better look. He was much more familiar with newly dead wyverns than he was with their skeletons but as far as he could tell it was indeed a real skull.

"You've got a good eye," the shopkeeper said approvingly from behind the counter. "Imported from Bern, made with real sapphires and the skull of the clutch's runt. Superstitious folk say it's good luck."

Mark raised an eyebrow at the enthusiastic sales pitch. "What's it used for?"

"Just a decoration, nothing special. It's rare to see a kid with taste these days so you can have it half off."

"Deal," Mark said immediately, pulling out his coin pouch. A quick look at the price tag told him the skull was already ridiculously cheap in the first place, so a fifty percent discount made it practically free. Did the shopkeeper have a reason for wanting to get rid of it so much? Maybe it was cursed or something. He should show it to Canas later just in case. "Can you wrap it with the best paper you have?"

"Oh?" The shopkeeper looked taken aback. "Is this a gift for someone?"

"Actually, it's Lord Hector's coronation present."

* * *

**Gift**

* * *

Naga generally didn't interfere unless it was absolutely necessary, but today was Robin's birthday and no one - the tactician himself included - knew it. Robin had been nothing but kindhearted and unfailingly loyal; how could she let this day pass without any acknowledgement?

-0-0-0-0-

"Hmm...regular swords look good but the killing edges are beginning to dull. Axes are fine, I should probably replace that hammer though." Robin carefully returned the weapons to their racks. A second later he almost sliced off his finger on an axe when something heavy crashed behind him.

He spun and raised his hand, fingers crackling with lightning, then froze and stared at the hammer lying innocently on the floor.

He was still staring when there was another, softer thump; beginning to grow slightly paranoid, he turned to find two brand new killing edges lying on the table. Red silk ribbons were wrapped around their sheathes and tied into an elaborate bow, and was Robin seeing things or were the dust motes floating above them spelling out the words 'Happy Birthday'?

Robin slowly inched around the table and backed outside, carefully closing the tent flap behind him. Then he turned and ran to find Libra, fervently hoping the priest was qualified in exorcisms.


	3. Treat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, the first crossover in this series! The lines in the dialogue part alternate between Tiki and Kris with Bantu's lines on the third and second to last; hopefully that's not too confusing.
> 
> For this piece I went with the theory that Morgan and Mark are the same person, hence why Eliwood refers to Mark as 'Morgan'.

"Tar-Tar! Do you have any apples?"

Kris looked up and smiled at the small manakete who'd just poked her head into the barracks. "Sorry, I'm afraid I don't have any. Why don't you ask the kitchen staff? I'm sure they'll be happy to help you."

Tiki pouted, but nodded and ducked back outside.

* * *

"Hey, hey, Tar-Tar!"

"Hello, Tiki. And...oh, hello Bantu."

"Good day, Kris. I apologize if we are interrupting."

"Not at all! What can I do for you?"

"Tar-Tar, can you show us how to make that tasty treat?"

"Tasty treat?"

"Uh huh! The one with the apples you gave me during the war."

"Oh, the fried apples? Sure, but we'll have to hurry if we want to make it back before dinner."

"Huh? Aren't we going to the kitchen?"

"I've always thought they tasted better when cooked over a campfire. Let's bring some baskets; I'm sure everyone will want some too."

"Okay! Ban-Ban will be carrying everything so we can make as much as we want."

"Oh? Devious child, is that why you insisted on waking me up?"

"...Maybe."

* * *

"Mm, this is delicious!" Nah nibbled delicately at a slice of hot apple with an expression of pure bliss. "I've never heard of such a snack before."

"I'd be surprised if you had; it was a very localized specialty and the village it originated from disappeared many centuries ago."

Tiki scraped the last of the slices onto her own plate and went to join the Shepherds around the campfire, Nah trotting along at her heels. "One of Marth's knights hailed from that village," she mused, only half-noticing as the people around her fell quiet and leaned in to listen. "He gave me some and I loved it so much I asked him to teach me how to make them."

"And you still remember perfectly after all these years?" Morgan spoke up. "You must really love these. Uh, not that I blame you. They're really good."

"Well, yes," Tiki said with an embarrassed twitch of her lips. After Kris's death she had actually made fried apples at least twice a year in order to refresh her memory; whenever she went to sleep she always scribbled down the instructions in a small book which she kept in a pocket or beside her. She never deviated from them even once.

The whole world knew about Mar-Mar and Caeda. They knew about the exploits of Elice, Merric, Minerva, and Nyna. They knew the names of all the Altean knights - all except one.

This recipe, along with Tiki's own memories, was the only evidence of Kris having ever existed.

* * *

"Ah, Tiki?"

Tiki looked curiously at the boy standing awkwardly in front of her tent. "Yes, Morgan? What can I do for you?"

"It's about those apples you made the other day." Morgan gave her a sheepish grin. "Nah really likes them and I want to do something nice for her, so I was wondering if you could teach me the recipe?"

"Teach you...ah, of course."

* * *

Eliwood wasn't sure what to expect when Morgan announced he was cooking that night. Logically he knew he should trust the boy who'd led them all to victory time and time again, but he'd witnessed Morgan's remarkable absent-mindedness in simple, day to day activities enough times to feel justified in worrying.

Fortunately his worries were for nothing; Morgan produced a simple but good meal without burning his hands or destroying the camp, and topped it off with one of the best desserts Eliwood had ever tasted.

Even Ninian and Nils, who'd always had an aversion to hot foods, barely waited for the apples to cool before scarfing them down.

"Can you show me how to make them?" Ninian asked after the meal. "I've never been very good at making hot foods but I would like to try."

"Sure," Morgan said cheerfully. "C'mon, I think there's still some apples lying around somewhere."

The two walked off, their excited chatter falling into a friendly debate about the benefits of hot versus cold foods.

"I believe I'd like to see this," Nils said with an uncharacteristically mischievous grin. The bard picked up his plate and hurried after his sister.

* * *

It had been many centuries since Bantu had been able to see. But although he had long abandoned his dragonstone he was and would always be a manakete. He lived in solitude and interacted with the world through touch and sound and scent. It was all he needed.

The air shuddered under the weight of a dragon's wings; the ground trembled briefly before light footsteps approached his door with a slight spring in their step, bringing with them a familiar scent.

As usual the half-dragon Nils smelled like glaciers and snow, but today his scent was mixed with something else. This second scent was...sweet, buttery, and very slightly charred. A snack, perhaps?

Bantu took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. There was something about that scent...

"Hello, Bantu."

"Good day, child. I am glad to see you in high spirits."

"I've been keeping myself busy," Nils said with only a touch of sorrow in his voice - sorrow for the sister he left behind, the sister who would live in happiness with the human she loved before dying in only a few short decades. "I'm happy for her, I truly am, and Eliwood is a good man. That makes it a lot easier to bear. But...I always knew I'd outlive humans. I never thought Ninian would be one of them."

Bantu bowed his head and said nothing, thinking of the curious, bright-eyed girl he'd left behind all those years. Despite his age Tiki had looked to him as a constant in her life, knowing that although he was old he would still be there even when the humans around her disappeared. Was this how she'd felt when he left her behind?

They remained silent for a long moment before Nils sighed and moved forward, gently taking Bantu's hand with icy fingers and pressing a cloth-wrapped bundle into his palm.

"I tried to keep it as warm as possible," the ice dragon said in an apologetic tone. "And I might have burned it a bit...but it's still quite good. Lord Eliwood's tactician, Morgan, taught Ninian and I how to make this."

Curious, Bantu wrapped his hands around the bundle. Its contents were vaguely spherical and firm beneath his fingers. He unwrapped the cloth and took a bite.

_"Here Ban-Ban, you should have some too!"_

_"I've already had my fill, child. Perhaps you should save some for the prince."_

_"Oh yeah, we shouldn't eat everything or else Mar-Mar will go hungry. Let's make some more, Tar-Tar!"_

_"Alright, but this is the last time, okay? It's getting dark. Bantu, do you want to try?"_

_Bantu instinctively began to decline, then paused and reconsidered._

_"I would be most honored to."_

"...The past truly has a tendency to emerge when you least expect it."

"Hm?" The floor creaked as Nils pulled over a chair. "I apologize, I didn't hear what you said."

"Don't worry, child. It was naught but an old dragon's nonsensical musing."

Silence elapsed once more as Bantu and Nils slowly ate their treats, lost in their memories of a time when loneliness was only a thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and there we have Kris's Confection.
> 
> A bit of explanation about the ending - after the War of Heroes Bantu leaves and isn't seen again. In this story he settles down to live out his years in anonymity, his true identity known only by two young dragons (Nils and Ninian). The Dragon's Gate in Fire Emblem 7 connects Elibe with Akaneia.
> 
> Assuming Bantu's still alive by the Awakening-era, it's safe to say that he'll be very, very, very old, so his senses are failing or completely gone


	4. Red

**Red**

* * *

The first time Katarina used magic after her return, a startled Cecil instinctively turned to skewer her and barely managed to stop in time. That evening Ryan kept giving her nervous looks, Luke twitched whenever she moved, and Rody carefully kept himself between her and Marth at all times.

The gentle, soft-spoken Katarina who avoided unnecessary conflicts and couldn't fight was so different from the deadly, flame-wielding Eine who'd attempted to kill the prince and later inflicted searing burns on their allies, it was difficult to reconcile the two.

"Katarina!"

She hesitated, shoulders hunching slightly as she turned to face him with a resigned smile. "Yes, Kris?"

Kris took a deep breath. "As dangerous as fire can be, it is also warm and comforting and I can't imagine living without it. Um. Also, good work today."

The other knights stared at him while Katarina's cheeks turned faintly red. "I...thank you, Kris."

* * *

**Red**

* * *

Mark had just picked up his journal when the door flew open and a purple-haired mage tumbled into the room.

"My apologies," Erk murmured as he carefully closed the door. "Mark, where is the best place to hide in this room?"

"Um..." Mark looked around, trying not to laugh. "Probably under the bed."

Erk gave the bed a quick glance before nodding and crawling underneath. He pulled up his hood and wrapped his cloak around him, the red material easily blending into the equally red carpet. Barely a second later the door slammed open again and Mark ducked out of the way as a pink-haired cleric barreled straight at him.

"Erk!" Serra stumbled but caught herself on Mark's recently vacated chair. "Oh, hello Mark. I don't suppose you've seen Erk around?"

"Not since breakfast," Mark lied, heroically resisting the urge to point under his bed. "Do you need him for something?"

"I'm in need of an escort to town," Serra sighed. "I've decided to be generous and hire him for the job, but I can't seem to find him! Is there anything you require from the market while I'm there?"

"Thank you, but I'm fine."

"Alright, enjoy your studying or whatever it is you like to do!" Serra waved her staff in farewell as she hurried away. "Erk! Erky-poo! Mr. Frumpy Face! Where are you?"

Mark waited until the footsteps faded before turning to his bed. "Are you ever going to ask her out?"

"Please be quiet."

* * *

**Red**

* * *

Robin dodged the assassin's spell, only to curse his mistake a second later when the tapestries caught fire. If the assassin was worried about the possibility of being caught in an inferno the man didn't show it, the smirk on his face as confident as ever as he watched Robin scramble away from the flames.

"The destruction that comes with fire is truly one of a kind," the tall mage said, tracking Robin at a leisurely pace as the red tendrils of another Arcfire spell slowly spun above his palm. "It purifies and cleanses without regard for friend or foe - not I, not your friends, not even the lovely Exalt."

Robin remained silent, glancing between the mage and the steadily growing flames while backing down the corridor as quickly as he dared.

"But you, on the other hand...yes, it may indeed bow to you." The assassin sneered, a flash of white teeth against his dark skin. "Submit to me and you will see for yourself!"

"I doubt I'd enjoy being submissive," Robin said dryly. "And in any case, you're not my type. Though if you surrender and turn into a woman I guess I can consider it. Maybe."

The man looked at him blankly, caught off guard for just a brief moment - but it was enough and he toppled over with Falchion buried in his heart.

"Thank you for that disturbing image," Chrom said, shaking his head. Behind him a couple of servants emerged from hiding with buckets of water and sand to combat the flames.

"You're welcome."  Robin smiled, setting aside the assassin's words for later inspection as he went to help put out the flames.


	5. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, been a while since I touched this fic. I'm sure most of you have heard about Fire Emblem Fates by now and the new Avatar/MU. Whether or not I'll be doing anything with them is to be determined, but anything I write about them will be in a new fic since they're the actual lord, not 'serving' the lord.
> 
> I've been playing around with the idea of Einherjar so this chapter is very much Awakening-centered. Mark's section is based on Lyn thinking Robin - well, the player behind Robin - is Mark when you recruit her. Of course Robin isn't actually Mark, but Lyn firmly believes he is.
> 
> I'm actually planning a longer oneshot based on Robin's section here, which is why it's so disproportionately long.
> 
> To anyone following UTDIR, don't worry - the next chapter's in the works. Real life has been busy but it should be posted soon enough.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

 

**Alone**

* * *

Sometimes Marth hears his friends in the heat of battle. Caeda's pegasus soars overhead; Merric's spells whistle through the air and his knights' horses pound the ground with rapid hooves. The enemy is unfamiliar, unnatural creatures who bear a crest he's never seen, but he's certain he and his companions will prevail.

Then he glances to the side to check on Kris, to make sure his stubbornly (frighteningly) loyal guard is alright, and snaps back to reality upon seeing nothing but empty space.

An unfamiliar pegasus soars overhead, bearing a beautiful woman who wields her lance with expert and flawless skill. Powerful spells whistle through the air, searing through the opposing ranks with deadly precision, and the ground trembles under the hooves of armored warhorses as they charge fearlessly at the enemy.

He fights beside an entire army, among them Tiki and his own descendants, but he can't remember the last time he felt so alone.

* * *

**Alone**

* * *

Mark doesn't recognize her.

Lyn hesitates, stands partly hidden between two tents as she watches Mark take a seat at the campfire. He is no longer the sometimes awkward traveler she found on the plains, nor is he the confident teen who led them to victory against all odds in the Campaign of Fire. He's grown and changed, both physically and mentally, and Lyn can't help but wonder if that, not his amnesia, is the main reason why he no longer knows her face.

"Robin," someone calls, and Mark turns with a smile that's both familiar and strange at the same time.

Eliwood has always been better at reaching out to people; Hector also has a talent for pushing past interpersonal barriers in his own blunt way. Perhaps, if they were here, they might be able to...

But there is no point looking to absent allies; in this battered, unfamiliar world Lyn can only rely on herself and her swordplay.  For this reason she will fight for Mark and protect him, remaining by his side even if he never remembers her again.

Perhaps Mark's memories would still be intact if he hadn't been alone.

* * *

**Alone**

* * *

Robin had quickly gotten used to a lot of strange things during his time with the Shepherds, especially after Henry joined, but the Einherjar were perhaps the strangest things he'd seen yet.

They'd first stumbled on the roaming bands of ancient warriors while fleeing the Dragon's Altar in the wake of Grima's resurrection. Most of them were faceless, attacking blindly without thought, but occasionally there was one particularly detailed spirit that would be indistinguishable from a normal person if not for the dark aura surrounding them.

The first such spirit the Shepherds encountered was a powerful red-eyed mage with long dark hair and what looked like a strange brand on his forehead. Upon being defeated the...boy? man? he looked young but seemed older... didn't fade away like his faceless companions, instead walking up to Robin with a vaguely annoyed expression and holding out his hand.

"Fine," he all but growled,"but I belong elsewhere."

"Um," Robin stared at him blankly. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Figures," the mage muttered under his breath, reaching out and grabbing Robin's hand. His grip was surprisingly solid, though lacking the warmth of a human body. Then, in a louder voice, "I am Soren, the tactician of the Greil Mercenaries. Under the terms of this infernal pact I am obligated to serve you...for now."

"What are you talking about?" Robin racked his brains. He was pretty sure he never arranged for anything like this, though with recent revelations about himself and Grima he supposed that didn't count for much.

"I will say this," Soren continued while ignoring Robin's question, studying him with narrowed eyes. His grip tightened, and either Robin was imagining things or Soren's finger had just traced the outline of the brand hidden by his glove. "You are more fortunate than you know. Do not waste it."

There was a muted flash of light and Robin found himself standing alone in front of a very confused group of Shepherds, an embossed card held loosely in his hand.


	6. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As some of you might've noticed, I'm not really following any preset prompt list and am mostly picking out random words from different lists... which I guess is cheating. But if anyone has any words they want me to do, feel free to request them and I'll do my best to write something for each one. As a general rule I'm trying to avoid using too many pairings besides the 'canon' ones - Marth/Caeda, Chrom/Sumia, Eliwood/Ninian, maybe Rath/Lyn - but if you have any pairing requests I'm willing to consider them.
> 
> Some one-sided Robin/Lucina here - I'm actually not a fan of that pairing or any Robin/2nd gen unless it's one sided so keep that in mind if you request 2nd gen romances, I guess.
> 
> Anyway, I've started playing Fates but as mentioned before, I won't be adding Corrin to this fic since s/he is pretty much the main lord of the game and won't fit in at all.

**Home**

* * *

 

"Are you writing a letter to your family?"

"No, just some friends," Kris finished scrawling his signature and blew on the parchment, fanning it slightly as he waited for the ink to dry. "The last of my family died some years back."

"O-oh, I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"Don't worry about it. It was a long time ago," Kris put down his pen and looked up. "Did you need something, Katarina?"

"No, I was just wondering what you were doing since we have a free day," Katarina watched as Kris folded his letter and sealed it with wax, a pensive expression on her face. "Do you miss them? Your friends back home, I mean. Sera Village is quite far."

"Sometimes," Kris sighed. Then he thought of his fellow trainees, of Sir Jagen's ruthless daily drills and the way even highly respected war heroes and Princess Caeda herself went out of their way to help with their training. And he thought of Prince Marth, who'd often use his scarce free time watching them train and offering tips and encouragement. "But not as much as I thought I would."

* * *

**Home**

* * *

The morning after Lord Hausen's funeral Mark found Lyn leaning against the parapet at the top of the castle, uncaring of the strong wind whipping her long hair around as she watched guests prepare to leave.

"I don't like it here," Lyn said quietly, running her hand over the low stone wall. "It is... confining. The buildings stand against nature rather than with it, and the people within the buildings, these nobles, smile while waiting for an opportunity to plunge a dagger in my back. I do not blame Mother for running away."

"Do you regret it?" Mark asked. "Coming here, I mean. I know this wasn't what you had in mind when you joined me."

"I..." Lyn hesitated, then shook her head. "No, I don't regret it. Short as it was, I greatly enjoyed the time I had with Grandfather. And for every backstabber who lurks in the shadows, there are good men like you and Wil and Kent and Sain. I am glad to have met all of you. But... I do miss it. I miss Sacae."

"It's normal to be homesick, especially in such a foreign land," Mark gave Lyn a reassuring smile. "But the Lycians love you, and I know you'll be a great ruler. Caelin will never replace Sacae but with time I'm sure it'll eventually feel like home."

Lyn gave a noncommittal hum and turned to face him. "Do you speak from experience?"

"Not really, no. I've been traveling for as long as I remember."

"Somehow that does not surprise me," Lyn smiled and squeezed Mark's shoulder. "I'll take your word for it nonetheless. But just as Caelin will become my home, however long that may take, I hope you too will come to think of it as yours. As long as I breathe you will always be welcome here - that's a promise, my friend."

* * *

**Home**

* * *

"I almost beat Virion at chess today," Morgan said. She absently dragged her boots over the grass, watching their leather soles dig shallow furrows in the dirt. "He grew all teary-eyed and started waxing poetic about the games you two played during the war. You'll have to tell me about them sometime - if they were anything like the game we had today, I bet you have some great stories."

"Sorry I didn't visit yesterday," she added, pulling a blue flower from the ground and twirling it around between her fingers - _forget-me-not_ , Sumia had called them, and she'd loved them immediately. She tucked it behind her ear. "I saw Lucina was here and thought you guys should have some privacy. Do you know she loves you? She confessed to Mother and almost broke down crying. Of course Mother doesn't blame her, this is _you_ we're talking about here, but I don't think Lucina believed her. Sorry, I know it's wrong to share other people's secrets. I just thought you might appreciate a heads up if Chrom starts threatening you with bodily harm or something."

"Don't worry, Mother and I will protect you if it does come to that. But you should be careful anyway, just in case. We're... we're all a bit on edge these days," she looked up at her father's statue and smiled. "It's been almost a year. Come home soon, okay?"


	7. Failure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by NotteBoy97. I took a few liberties with this prompt, especially with the Robin part, but I hope you like it.
> 
> Again, if anyone has prompts they want me to do or even just ideas they'd like to see done feel free to say so.

**Failure**

* * *

 

Kris set down the tray he'd brought and poured out two cups of the inn's best tea, then sat down and waited silently as Marth slowly composed himself. The candle Kris had lit was almost a quarter gone when Marth finally began to speak, wiping at puffy red cheeks and swollen eyes still shining with moisture.

"I... I did not even see her fall," Marth said hoarsely. "The terrain was bad, we were greatly outnumbered... and... "

"Sire..." Kris reached out but hesitated, his hand hovering over Marth's shoulder. Hesitation was a death sentence in war and he'd pushed, shoved, and pulled Marth countless times in the midst of battle, etiquette paling in comparison to keeping the prince safe. But here he was not just Marth's guard; he was a retainer, a servant, and despite Marth's tendency to treat him as a confidant he simply didn't have the right to touch the prince so casually.

"I failed her," Marth bowed his head, tears running down his face again as he twisted a piece of thick red rope - rope that had until recently adorned Princess Caeda's spear - around in his hands. "She insisted on fighting at my side and I failed her."

 _I am the failure, not you. I failed the two of you by allowing us to be separated, by not being at your side._ Kris swallowed his words - the prince would not hear them, and the last thing either of them needed right now was an argument on where to pin blame - and let his hand fall onto Marth's shoulder, where it remained long after the candle burned down to darkness.

* * *

**Failure**

* * *

The Dread Isle was a week behind them by the time Mark worked up the courage to find Eliwood during one of the lord's rare forays from the cargo hold where they'd stored his father's body. Eliwood glanced up with a faint twitch of his lips, barely comparable to his usual smile, as Mark approached.

"Do you need something?"

"No, I just..." Mark took a deep breath. "I wanted to apo-"

" _Mark_ ," Eliwood frowned. "You're the last person who needs to apologize. This... this wasn't your fault. _N_ _one_ of us are to blame for what happened."

"I was overcautious during our approach," Mark said quietly. "I should have known the importance of speed after what happened to Leila. Instead I insisted we slow down."

"You were suspicious of Uhai's instructions. That the rest of us trusted him merely made you all the more cautious," Eliwood grabbed Mark's arm and squeezed. "I wholeheartedly wish things did not turn out this way, but it is more than obvious you took what you believed to be the best course of action."

"And allowed your father to die in the process," Mark winced as soon as the words left his mouth and rubbed a hand over his face. "Err. Sorry."

"There... there is no way of knowing if he'd live had we arrived sooner," Eliwood looked away for a moment. When he spoke again his voice was softer and shook almost imperceptibly. "You saw how weak he was. And I cannot imagine... how it would've felt had we successfully rescued him only to watch him die of illness on our journey home. But I do know there is no sense in imagining it, for that is not our reality."

Mark was quiet for a moment. "Shouldn't I be the one giving you reassurance, not the other way around?"

"Worry not, you do that often enough. It's only right I return the favor," Eliwood dropped his hand and sighed. "I'll admit I forget this more often than I should, but you are still young - younger than most of us. The role of a tactician is necessary... but hard. There will be times in the future when your resolve is tested, when you must weigh the lives of your friends against the success of your cause. Perhaps you've already had them, on this very campaign, and did not think to tell us. Out of pride, or because you did not want us to worry."

Mark flinched.

"The world is dark enough without dwelling on self-perceived failures," Eliwood's smile was slightly larger this time. "I do not blame you for what happened, Mark. But... I do understand what it is like, to look back on the past and think 'what if', so I hope you can forgive yourself."

* * *

**Failure**

* * *

He found Lucina by herself, staring at the wards Laurent had raised around the camp with a pensive expression. She looked at him and opened her mouth as he sat down, then sighed and turned away without saying anything.

Robin swallowed the words he wanted to say - telling Lucina, or indeed any of the future children, that everything would be alright was nothing but empty platitude considering what they'd gone through - and looked out towards the horizon, where he could dimly see Grima's shadow soaring through the sky.

"How are you holding up?"

Lucina's wince was a more than adequate answer. The princess glanced at him, guilt flickering across her face. "I have...always suspected. I never wanted you to know."

Robin blinked, nonplussed at the odd statement. "What?"

Lucina gestured vaguely at the sky. "I've always suspected you were related to Grima in some way. That is why I never told you much about the future, and anything I told Father would've undoubtedly made its way to your ears so I did not confide in him either. Looking back now, I... I was naive. I withheld vital information and hindered all of us due to a distrust based on rumors and speculation."

"Your instincts turned out to be true," Robin shuddered as he thought about the events of the past day. "I'm apparently Grima's vessel - that's as related to him as anyone can get. And I did kill Chrom in your timeline... Gods, almost killed him here too. Frankly, I'm surprised you don't hate me."

"Hate you?" Lucina made a choking sound that was half laugh and half sob. "I expected to. I cannot. Time and again I've seen your dedication to the Shepherds and your loyalty to my father. But still I convinced myself that it was all an act, a ruse. Even after it was clear your actions in my time were not your own, I hesitated. Now the world suffers the consequences of my failure to trust you."

"Lucina..."

"I know what you want to say. And... I do appreciate it," Lucina shook her head and stood, giving Robin a faltering smile. "I should go help with the inventory. If there are any questions you have, about the future or anything else, please don't hesitate to ask. I promise I'll answer to the best of my ability."

"... Thank you," Robin bowed his head. "I will not betray your trust. One way or another, I will find a way to end this - it is the least I can do."


End file.
